Sometimes Love Isn't Enough
by Rubylovesdance
Summary: Leukemia. In minutes, that word can turn your world upside down. Skye has only 6 months to live. Her sister Claire is the only person who can get through her tough girl shell. But sometimes love isn't enough.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! This is my first story here on FF. It's completely true (seriously, I wrote down what doctors said in my journal so the majority of this story is true). It's for Maggie, because without my big sister, I wouldn't be who I am today!**

**So it's my first story so please review! Thanks!  
Ruby =]**

"Claaaaaiiiiire!" I heard my fourteen year old sister Skye scream. "You took my hair straightener, didn't you?!"

I stomped from my pink room and into my sister's room. Her dog Lilly lounged on Skye's unmade bed, its stomach facing the roof in hopes for a belly rub. The dog sure as hell wasn't getting a belly rub from me –that thing scared the crap out of my poor cat!

"No, I didn't steal your straightener," I snapped once I was in her bathroom.

She was standing in front of her mirror, blow dried hair hanging in perfect blonde waves down to the middle of her back.

Skye had the best hair in all of our middle school. In all of Westchester, probably. It's shiny and honey blonde and it's always soft. It's unfair that she gets the great looks. Clear skin, happy navy eyes, perfect teeth, curves. Where as I was still at the gangly too-tall-and-skinny stage. My hair was thin and a light blonde (Mom wouldn't let me get highlights until I was thirteen).

"Then where is it?" She snapped, her blue eyes glaring.

"How should I know?" I retorted, rolling my eyes.

This was our usual morning regimen. Get up, shower, brush teeth, fight with sister, blow dry hair, fight with sister, eat breakfast, fight with sister. And it was always over stupid stuff. Like losing a straightener.

"What_ever_," She said and turned her attention to her perfect reflection in the mirror.

The fluffy towel wrapped around her lithe body slid a few inches down her back and I noticed a huge bruise on her spine.

"Where'd ya get that?" I asked. It was about the size of an apple, and yellow-y purple.

She craned her neck around to see what I was talking about. Her eyes widened for a second, and she looked puzzled.

"I dunno," She said, scrutinizing the bruise. "I haven't noticed it before."

"Does it hurt?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "Maybe I slept on something hard."

"Did you fall in cheer?"

"Puh-lease," she scoffed. "Me? Fall? Hell no."

Did I mention my sister is the queen on cockiness? Because she is. Straight A report car? Well you wouldn't expect someone like _her _to get a lowly B.

I rolled my eyes and was about to exit the room when I heard her gasp.

"What?" I asked, stepping back in her all white bathroom.

She was looking at her cheerleading-toned leg, her mouth slightly open.

"What the hell? Look I have seven more bruises on one leg."

I looked at her leg curiously. "You sure you didn't hurt yourself?" I asked

"Positive," she murmured, still staring intently down at her leg.

I shrugged and step out of the bathroom. "Better hurry and get dressed. Tanya—"

Our driver, "—will be pissed if you're late again."

She nodded and followed me out of the bathroom. "So you gonna try out for cheer next year? I'll be in high school; there's gotta be a Hamilton to continue in my foot steps."

I shrugged. Cheerleading wasn't really my thing. The boys certainly seemed to like you. My sister was amazing at cheer (well amazing at everything, really), I doubted I'd be able to do her proud.

"Girls," our mom said over the intercom. "Tanya's waiting –hurry!"

Skye quickly did up her jean skirt and put on her plum suede flats. "C'mon, I don't wanna be late."

As she flounced down the stairs, I couldn't help but stare at the bruises lined up on her leg, like several blue jewels.

* * *

"_Claire Hamilton, please report to the office, as soon as possible. Claire Hamilton to the office. Thank you."_

I looked up from my sandwich at the announcement system.

"What did you do?" My best friend Massie Block asked.

I shrugged and stood up. "I'll be back, I guess."

I made my way to the office and saw my sister sitting there, looking pale and weak.

"What's wrong, S?" I asked, alarmed.

"Mom's taking me to the hospital," she said, her voice very meek and small.

"What?! Why?!"

Before my sister could answer, the door burst open and my mom flew in.

"Skye," she said, her blue eyes took in my sister's saddened form. "C'mon, let's go."

"Claire's coming too, right?" she mumbled.

My mom glanced at me. "Uh, yeah. Hurry up Claire."

I followed my mom's quick pace to our black SUV. I sat in the passenger seat, while Skye lay in the back shivering, but sweat was dripping down her forehead.

"Mom," I said quietly, not that my sister could hear me over the chattering of her teeth. "What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know…" Mom said, glancing at Skye in the mirror. She stepped on the gas peddle, causing the car to accelerate. "But I want to find out. Right. Now."

We sped the rest of the way to the hospital. Once we got there, my mom rushed Skye into ER, me following closely behind.

As soon as people waiting in ER saw my sister's sweaty but shaking body in my mom's arms, they let us pass and see the doctor.

The ER receptionist took one look at my sister and my mom and paged three doctors.

Only two came right away, one's name was Dr. Hop and the other was Dr. Young. Dr. Young was a girl who looked, well, young. Barely old enough to be a doctor.

"I want a blood test done and check some of her WBC," Dr. Hop said, placing Skye on a rolling hospital bed. "I'll get Dr. James on oncology."

Wait. Oncology. As in cancer? I stopped breathing and my throat locked. I turned to where my mom had been standing to see her expression, but she was rushing after Dr. Young and my sister.

I quickly followed after them, knowing if I didn't I would be stuck waiting forever.

"Dr. Hop's office is two doors down…please sit there while I test…" Dr. Young said, not knowing my sister's name.

"Skye," My mother said. "Skye Hamilton. Fourteen years of age as of last October fifth. No allergies or anything."

"Great, thanks, Mrs. Hamilton. Please wait in Dr. Hop's office." She shut the door of the room where Skye was.

And hour and a half later, Dr. Hop, Dr. Young and a doctor we hadn't met yet (I assumed it was Dr. James) filed into Dr. Hop's office.

Skye came in after them, looking pale, but not sick like before. She collapsed into a chair beside mom. I caught her eye and was about to ask her if she was okay, but then Dr. Young spoke.

"With Skye, I took two blood tests and a white blood cell count," she began. "It turns out that she has a very low amount of white blood cells. We also looked into her bone marrow—"

"The squishy stuff inside bones?" I blurted, earning a look from my mom.

Dr. Young smiled. "Yes, the squishy stuff inside bones. There's a loss of marrow in her bones, because leukemic cells have taken over," a grave look passed over her features. "Which means, yes, Skye has leukemia."

My mom gasped, and tears sprung to my eyes. My big sister had leukemia. My big sister. Skye. My sister. Skye, who charmed everyone she met with her innocent blue eyes and giggly voice, had leukemia.

I looked over at her. She sat with her head down and her hands trembling. I knew she was scared. I knew she was wondering what everyone would think. Even if she acted strong, acted brave, I knew the girl who was under that wall. The girl who was scared for what this would do.

My mom was crying and Skye wouldn't speak, so it was up to me to ask the questions.

"W-what will happen?"

Dr. Young and Dr. Hop nodded towards Dr. James and then left the room.

"I'm Dr. James," he held out his hand to me, since I was the only one who wasn't broken. "Oncology, which I'm sure you now know, is for cancer."

I nodded slowly. Not a lot was going into my brain.

"What your sister has is called acute myeloid leukemia, or AML. It causes low white and red blood cell counts, as well as a low platelet count. It's very crucial that Skye does not bleed. Because she has very little platelets right now, she could easily bleed to death.

"Some of the symptoms are fatigue,—" which explained why she was so tired the past few weeks, "—easy bruising and bleeding, and a severe risk of infection."

Mom stopped crying and looked at Dr. James. "Well what can we do to make it go away?"

Dr. James looked uncomfortable. "Well, that's the thing. We will be doing chemotherapy and radiation, but…" he shuffled his papers and adjusted his glasses.

"But…?" I gestured my hand, making him continue.

"Even with those treatments," he said, "Skye has only six months to live."

**REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! This is my first story here on FF. It's completely true (seriously, I wrote down what doctors said in my journal so the majority of this story is true). It's for Maggie, because without my big sister, I wouldn't be who I am today!**

**So it's my first story so please review! Thanks!  
Ruby =]**

"Claaaaaiiiiire!" I heard my fourteen year old sister Skye scream. "You took my hair straightener, didn't you?!"

I stomped from my pink room and into my sister's room. Her dog Lilly lounged on Skye's unmade bed, its stomach facing the roof in hopes for a belly rub. The dog sure as hell wasn't getting a belly rub from me –that thing scared the crap out of my poor cat!

"No, I didn't steal your straightener," I snapped once I was in her bathroom.

She was standing in front of her mirror, blow dried hair hanging in perfect blonde waves down to the middle of her back.

Skye had the best hair in all of our middle school. In all of Westchester, probably. It's shiny and honey blonde and it's always soft. It's unfair that she gets the great looks. Clear skin, happy navy eyes, perfect teeth, curves. Where as I was still at the gangly too-tall-and-skinny stage. My hair was thin and a light blonde (Mom wouldn't let me get highlights until I was thirteen).

"Then where is it?" She snapped, her blue eyes glaring.

"How should I know?" I retorted, rolling my eyes.

This was our usual morning regimen. Get up, shower, brush teeth, fight with sister, blow dry hair, fight with sister, eat breakfast, fight with sister. And it was always over stupid stuff. Like losing a straightener.

"What_ever_," She said and turned her attention to her perfect reflection in the mirror.

The fluffy towel wrapped around her lithe body slid a few inches down her back and I noticed a huge bruise on her spine.

"Where'd ya get that?" I asked. It was about the size of an apple, and yellow-y purple.

She craned her neck around to see what I was talking about. Her eyes widened for a second, and she looked puzzled.

"I dunno," She said, scrutinizing the bruise. "I haven't noticed it before."

"Does it hurt?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "Maybe I slept on something hard."

"Did you fall in cheer?"

"Puh-lease," she scoffed. "Me? Fall? Hell no."

Did I mention my sister is the queen on cockiness? Because she is. Straight A report car? Well you wouldn't expect someone like _her _to get a lowly B.

I rolled my eyes and was about to exit the room when I heard her gasp.

"What?" I asked, stepping back in her all white bathroom.

She was looking at her cheerleading-toned leg, her mouth slightly open.

"What the hell? Look I have seven more bruises on one leg."

I looked at her leg curiously. "You sure you didn't hurt yourself?" I asked

"Positive," she murmured, still staring intently down at her leg.

I shrugged and step out of the bathroom. "Better hurry and get dressed. Tanya—"

Our driver, "—will be pissed if you're late again."

She nodded and followed me out of the bathroom. "So you gonna try out for cheer next year? I'll be in high school; there's gotta be a Hamilton to continue in my foot steps."

I shrugged. Cheerleading wasn't really my thing. The boys certainly seemed to like you. My sister was amazing at cheer (well amazing at everything, really), I doubted I'd be able to do her proud.

"Girls," our mom said over the intercom. "Tanya's waiting –hurry!"

Skye quickly did up her jean skirt and put on her plum suede flats. "C'mon, I don't wanna be late."

As she flounced down the stairs, I couldn't help but stare at the bruises lined up on her leg, like several blue jewels.

* * *

"_Claire Hamilton, please report to the office, as soon as possible. Claire Hamilton to the office. Thank you."_

I looked up from my sandwich at the announcement system.

"What did you do?" My best friend Massie Block asked.

I shrugged and stood up. "I'll be back, I guess."

I made my way to the office and saw my sister sitting there, looking pale and weak.

"What's wrong, S?" I asked, alarmed.

"Mom's taking me to the hospital," she said, her voice very meek and small.

"What?! Why?!"

Before my sister could answer, the door burst open and my mom flew in.

"Skye," she said, her blue eyes took in my sister's saddened form. "C'mon, let's go."

"Claire's coming too, right?" she mumbled.

My mom glanced at me. "Uh, yeah. Hurry up Claire."

I followed my mom's quick pace to our black SUV. I sat in the passenger seat, while Skye lay in the back shivering, but sweat was dripping down her forehead.

"Mom," I said quietly, not that my sister could hear me over the chattering of her teeth. "What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know…" Mom said, glancing at Skye in the mirror. She stepped on the gas peddle, causing the car to accelerate. "But I want to find out. Right. Now."

We sped the rest of the way to the hospital. Once we got there, my mom rushed Skye into ER, me following closely behind.

As soon as people waiting in ER saw my sister's sweaty but shaking body in my mom's arms, they let us pass and see the doctor.

The ER receptionist took one look at my sister and my mom and paged three doctors.

Only two came right away, one's name was Dr. Hop and the other was Dr. Young. Dr. Young was a girl who looked, well, young. Barely old enough to be a doctor.

"I want a blood test done and check some of her WBC," Dr. Hop said, placing Skye on a rolling hospital bed. "I'll get Dr. James on oncology."

Wait. Oncology. As in cancer? I stopped breathing and my throat locked. I turned to where my mom had been standing to see her expression, but she was rushing after Dr. Young and my sister.

I quickly followed after them, knowing if I didn't I would be stuck waiting forever.

"Dr. Hop's office is two doors down…please sit there while I test…" Dr. Young said, not knowing my sister's name.

"Skye," My mother said. "Skye Hamilton. Fourteen years of age as of last October fifth. No allergies or anything."

"Great, thanks, Mrs. Hamilton. Please wait in Dr. Hop's office." She shut the door of the room where Skye was.

And hour and a half later, Dr. Hop, Dr. Young and a doctor we hadn't met yet (I assumed it was Dr. James) filed into Dr. Hop's office.

Skye came in after them, looking pale, but not sick like before. She collapsed into a chair beside mom. I caught her eye and was about to ask her if she was okay, but then Dr. Young spoke.

"With Skye, I took two blood tests and a white blood cell count," she began. "It turns out that she has a very low amount of white blood cells. We also looked into her bone marrow—"

"The squishy stuff inside bones?" I blurted, earning a look from my mom.

Dr. Young smiled. "Yes, the squishy stuff inside bones. There's a loss of marrow in her bones, because leukemic cells have taken over," a grave look passed over her features. "Which means, yes, Skye has leukemia."

My mom gasped, and tears sprung to my eyes. My big sister had leukemia. My big sister. Skye. My sister. Skye, who charmed everyone she met with her innocent blue eyes and giggly voice, had leukemia.

I looked over at her. She sat with her head down and her hands trembling. I knew she was scared. I knew she was wondering what everyone would think. Even if she acted strong, acted brave, I knew the girl who was under that wall. The girl who was scared for what this would do.

My mom was crying and Skye wouldn't speak, so it was up to me to ask the questions.

"W-what will happen?"

Dr. Young and Dr. Hop nodded towards Dr. James and then left the room.

"I'm Dr. James," he held out his hand to me, since I was the only one who wasn't broken. "Oncology, which I'm sure you now know, is for cancer."

I nodded slowly. Not a lot was going into my brain.

"What your sister has is called acute myeloid leukemia, or AML. It causes low white and red blood cell counts, as well as a low platelet count. It's very crucial that Skye does not bleed. Because she has very little platelets right now, she could easily bleed to death.

"Some of the symptoms are fatigue,—" which explained why she was so tired the past few weeks, "—easy bruising and bleeding, and a severe risk of infection."

Mom stopped crying and looked at Dr. James. "Well what can we do to make it go away?"

Dr. James looked uncomfortable. "Well, that's the thing. We will be doing chemotherapy and radiation, but…" he shuffled his papers and adjusted his glasses.

"But…?" I gestured my hand, making him continue.

"Even with those treatments," he said, "Skye has only six months to live."

**REVIEW!**


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